


Fight Me?

by nerdyderekhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, M/M, Nurse Derek Hale, POV Alternating, Sick Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdyderekhale/pseuds/nerdyderekhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles is sick and cranky, Derek is hopelessly endeared, and everyone else definitely knows that Stiles means a different kind of fighting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this [post](http://nerdyderekhale.tumblr.com/post/130249272278/officialcadbane-ohsebs-ohsebs-ohsebs). The idea came and wouldn't go away.

Derek didn’t know what to do with him. Every time he walked into the room, his patient would raise himself up as far as he could, which was a feat considering his many broken bones, and wheeze out “Fight me”, as if Derek were there to torture him rather than check his vitals. He was amused at first, quirking his mouth into a quick smile and replying “Maybe later” as he observed Stiles hiding in his mountain of pillows. However, as the days passed and Derek realized that Stiles only reacted that way to him, he began to wonder if maybe Stiles wasn’t joking and he had actually done something wrong.

“Derek, you have nothing to worry about, the kid is just grumpy that he can’t walk to the bathroom.”

Erica stood at the nurse’s station, flipping a magazine with disinterest, even though she was supposed to be working. On the other side, Boyd and Isaac were talking about their patients on the floor, watching the clock for when their shifts would be over. Derek sighed, examining the charts before him and just hoping that his last few hours would go quickly.

“I’m not worried, I just don’t want the idiot falling on his ass trying to go through with it and suing me for damages.”

Derek tried and failed to appear casual, and he could tell that Erica was beginning to question why he was asking her about it. He turned, throwing a quick “I should go check to make sure Mrs. Robinson hasn’t tried to remove her IV again” over his shoulder. He hoped that he had moved at a brisk enough pace to ignore whatever was going through Erica’s mind, but it wasn’t fast enough.

“You know,” Erica interrupted, and he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came out of her mouth next from the sly slant of her eyes. “Maybe you could offer to help Stiles to the bathroom and he wouldn’t be so grumpy. It might also help with the sexual frustration I’m sure he’s suffering from.” Behind her, Derek could hear Boyd and Isaac break off in conversation to laugh at him, while he stared at Erica and tried not to blush.

“I think I’ll pass,” he stated, and finally walked away.

***

Stiles was done.

He was done with the uncomfortable feeling that came with being unable to move most of his body parts. He was done with the hospital smell that had become so attached to him that it burned his nose and he was afraid the stench would never leave. He was done with hospital food, and he really wished his dad would bring him a cheeseburger or curly fries or something, but he just sat there smugly while he at his delicious and contraband food. If Stiles weren’t currently immobile, he would smack the milkshake right out of his hands.

While they waited for his doctor to appear and tell him when he would be able to check out, Angry Eyebrows walked by, engrossed in charts and not looking in his direction. Stiles could feel himself turn pink, and darted his eyes toward his dad to make sure he wasn’t paying attention. Thankfully, the milkshake seemed to be doing its part to distract him, and Stiles turned his attention back to the doorway. He squeaked when he saw the nurse looking at him, and tried to school his features into a calm expression.

Angry Eyebrows walked in, looking at Stiles’ father while nearing the bed. The heart rate monitor started picking up, and Stiles had never felt more embarrassed in his life; of course just the near proximity of the hot nurse would make his heart beat double time. Derek looked closely at the monitor, curious at it’s sudden change, and Stiles looked around, trying to find anything to distract him from asking uncomfortable questions.

“Fight me” he blurted out, the quick escape of air triggering another coughing fit that he had thought he got over days ago. He tried to breathe through it, because the last thing he needed was a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe and that would do nothing to help his already spastic image. The coughing wouldn’t stop, but next to him Derek made a soothing sound and replied, “I don’t think I will, you would definitely beat me” with a toothy grin. In the face of a smile as bright as the sun, the coughing started to lessen, replaced by the sound of his father chuckling in the corner. Shooting his father a glare, Stiles tried to compose himself and think up some sort of retort to the nurse’s remarks. Before he could, however, his doctor walked in and Angry Eyebrows started towards the door, giving him a small wave before he turned down the hall.

***

Derek knew this was unprofessional. If this were any other patient, when it is any other patient, he checks in on them one final time to ensure that they have their paperwork sorted out and know how much medicine they need to take each day when they get home before he officially discharges them. If this were any other patient, he would have been home in front of his computer right now, instead of standing awkwardly in the hallway after his shift has already ended, trying to decide what to do. But, this patient is Stiles, Stiles who is equal parts infuriating and amusing, who he only began to hope might be attracted to him after spending days listening to Erica poke fun at him for his crush. Squaring his shoulders, Derek resigned himself to it and peeked into the room. It was dark, with it being past ten o’clock, and the only light came from the muted television and the equipment surrounding Stiles bed. He was already asleep from what Derek could see, sprawled in a position that couldn’t be comfortable for his recovering limbs, but might be able to reduce his coughing fits in the middle of the night. His hair looked like it had been mussed up every which way; probably a result of the pillows at the head of the bed, but Derek failed to stop himself from imagining another way for his hair to end up looking like that. He quietly walked closer, hoping to avoid an awkward situation and not wake Stiles. As he drew nearer, he noticed that there was a little drool in the corner of Stiles mouth, and Derek couldn’t help but be endeared, mentally reprimanding himself for being so cliché. Before he could do something ridiculous like gently wipe it away, he dropped the coffee mug on the table next to Stiles bed and hoped that he would hear from Stiles soon.

***

Stiles cracked his eyes open, seeing the streaming sunlight fall through the windows where a nurse must have come in to open the curtains. He moaned and attempted to lift himself up, mentally calculating how many hours he could sleep when he finally got home. He felt happy, almost gleeful at the prospect of being in his own bed and stuffing himself with junk food that his father wouldn’t be able to take from him. Maybe he could convince Scott to come over and watch a movie with himself since video games would be a no go until his arm healed.

As his brain slowly started working at full capacity, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. There, seated on his table where it had not been the night before, sat a coffee mug with a black dog on the side, saying “Heal!” in a thought bubble above its head. Stiles couldn’t help but giggle at the pun, wondering where it came from. He reached for it with his good arm, and found a note inside. Written quickly on a scrap of paper read, “Fight me?” with a number and signed Derek. A full on grin burst onto his face, and he scrambled to find his phone amongst the sheets.

While he wasn’t paying attention, his father walked in and asked with amusement, “You ready to go?” Stiles looked up triumphantly, having found his phone as his father spoke, and tried to get out of the bed without falling on his face. “Make it quick, pops, I have a number to call.” His father shook his head and caught his good arm to help him amble his way to the exit.

***

Derek tried to distract himself after waking up by working out, but when that didn’t work he decided to call Laura. The fact that he called her voluntarily and not under threat of having her share embarrassing stories from his childhood with Erica apparently made her suspicious.

“You wouldn’t happen to be avoiding thinking of a certain Bambi-eyed patient, would you?” she cackled gleefully, causing Derek to curse his life and wish he had never introduced Laura to his friends the last time she was here to visit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grunted, when a small noise sounded from his phone, signaling a notification. He pulled the phone away from his, noting with dismay that Laura was still laughing at him. He looked with confusion as a text message from an unknown number appeared on his screen, and he clicked on it to see what it was. When the text came up, with first a picture of the mug he left in Stiles room and then a message asking him to dinner, Derek couldn’t help but smile while he texted a quick yes and think that this would be worth all of the teasing he would get from his sister and friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://nerdyderekhale.tumblr.com)!
> 
> DO NOT add this fic (or any others of mine) to Goodreads. If you see any on there, feel free to report them because they do not have permission.


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